


Calm Me Down

by alliterate



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, PWP, Trans Character, Trans Guy Simon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 14:42:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6859183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alliterate/pseuds/alliterate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Izzy pulls back a few inches to murmur, "No pressure or anything, but you could go down on me, if you wanted," and Simon's brain kind of short-circuits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calm Me Down

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks go to Sonia, both for the beta and for putting the idea for this fic in my brain. 
> 
> Based on show canon only. Oh, and if you missed the tags: Simon's a trans dude in this. It's not a focus of the fic, but it does come up once or twice.

They've been making out on Izzy's bed for a while, and honestly, Simon feels like he could stay here forever. Screw vampire politics and rogue Shadowhunter armies and Mortal Cups: just give him this improbably large room, these expensive-feeling, silky sheets, and his legs tangled with Izzy's, and he's content. He's happy.

Then Izzy pulls back a few inches to murmur, "No pressure or anything, but you could go down on me, if you wanted," and Simon's brain kind of short-circuits.

"Um," he says, struggling to catch up with what she just said, with the way she's kissing him again, like she _hasn't_ just turned this whole thing upside-down. He dodges awkwardly as she moves to kiss him again. "Um, like, right now?"

Izzy's laugh is rich, and so fond it makes his heart ache a little. "Or whenever. But we only have an hour or so before Jace and Clary get back, and—"

"Yeah, no, of course right now. Duh. Sorry." Simon pauses. "It's just… are you sure?"

"Mmm, wouldn't have asked if I wasn't," Izzy says. Then she narrows her eyes a little, searches Simon's face. "Why? Are you not sure?"

"No! Yes, I mean, yes I am. I am very sure that I want to do, um, that. With you," Simon says over the sound of Izzy's laugh. "It's just—are you sure you want to do this with _me_? I'm…" He gestures, vaguely, to all of himself.

"You're what?" Izzy asks. She looks genuinely, impossibly puzzled.

"A vampire." Simon forces the word out over the others that want to trip off his tongue: monster, Downworlder, abomination, dead thing. Something ugly rises up in him at the the thought, but it's _true_ , he thinks.

He's a vampire. People, actual living people, aren't supposed to want that from him.

But Izzy just smiles. "Is this about the fangs?" she asks, playing idly with Simon's hair. "Because all teeth can be a hazard during oral. It's just a matter of keeping them… sheathed."

She grins at him after she says it, and he smiles back. Some of his nerves must shine through, though, because Izzy's expression fades a little. "Simon. I mean it when I say no pressure, okay?"

Izzy shifts as if to pull back, give Simon space, but he lays a hand on her hip—not demanding, just enough, he hopes, to let her know he's okay. They're okay. Izzy's expression shifts from concerned back to warm, open.

"Nah," Simon says. He rolls them over so Izzy's flat on her back and he's half on top of her. Izzy looks abruptly delighted. "I'm good. Just checking."

He kisses her then, hard, a contrast to the lazy kisses from before, and Izzy responds in kind. She's an incredible kisser. Not that Simon has a ton of experience—it had really just been a few sloppy makeouts at high school parties and then that thing with Maureen, before he and Izzy got together—but it's like art, he figures. He may not know how to draw more than stick figures himself, but he knows a real artist when he sees one.

Izzy is pressing her hips against him now, though, not insistent but firm enough, and Simon remembers that now isn't the time to revel in her artistry. He pulls away and starts to move down the bed, planting kisses to whatever bits of bared skin he can reach. He gets momentarily distracted by her breasts, but he doesn't think anyone could blame him for that, really. They're pretty fantastic breasts, and the outfit she's wearing—a skirt and a crop top that really seems to Simon more like a glorified bra—only serves to highlight that fact.

"Enough foreplay," Izzy says after a minute or two, her voice betraying a laugh. She puts her hand on top of Simon's head and gently pushes down, and really, who is Simon to deny this woman anything?

Simon shuffles further down the bed, aiming for "suave" as he goes but probably landing somewhere around "horny nerd." He winds up kneeling with one leg between Izzy's thighs, which isn't really gonna work for them, but Izzy's skirt doesn't exactly give her a great range of motion.

Sliding his hands from her knees upward in a way that he hopes desperately is sexy, he tries to push her skirt up to give her more freedom of movement, and finds that he… can't. The skirt is too tight. Simon furrows his brow and tries again, but the fabric just rumples a little. It won't go anywhere.

He glances up at Izzy, who simply gazes at him, both her eyebrows raised. Her bottom lip is between her teeth, like she's trying not to laugh.

Never one to back down from a challenge, Simon gets two fistfuls of the skirt and tugs, hard, trying to pull it down if it won't slide up. The skirt doesn't move. Izzy bites her lip harder, the corners of her mouth turning up. Simon sighs and admits defeat. "A little help?"

Izzy shoots him a grin. "Thought you'd never ask." She dislodges his hands from her skirt and takes hold of the hem, doing something that involves a lot of distracting shimmying but that ends up with the skirt hiked up around her hips and her feet planted far enough apart for Simon to lie between them.

"I could've taken it all the way off, but I probably would have kicked you in the face in the process," Izzy tells him, not sounding very apologetic at the thought.

"No, um, this is good." Simon's voice goes a little high-pitched as he takes in the sight: Izzy, splayed out on the bed like some kind of goddess. He clears his throat. "This is good. This works." 

He lays a kiss on the inside of her raised knee before he can embarrass himself any further, shifting to lie between her legs. Izzy sighs when his lip touch her and spreads her legs that little bit further. Simon takes this as permission, as the _Get to it_ that it probably is, and starts pressing kisses in a line up her thigh.

It's kind of amazing, being this up close and personal with Izzy's thighs; they're athletic like the rest of her, muscular and strong.He presses his mouth to her, feeling the pulse deep beneath the skin of her leg; he wants to—

He wants to bite her.

That ugly thing inside him rises up once more, wraps around his throat and threatens to choke him, but he fights it back. Simon has self-control: one little impulse means nothing. He and Izzy have talked about this, and she trusts him. And this is about her.

Izzy slides the fingers of one hand through his hair, gentle, probably wondering what the hold-up is this time. Simon shoves his feelings away and smiles. He pulls back just enough to look her in the eyes and say, "I've never done this before, fair warning," before he leans back in and kisses her through her underwear.

Izzy's fingers tighten in his hair, so he does it again. Her underwear is a little damp, he notes with a stab of pride—and then feels ridiculous for being proud, because they'd been making out for ages before this started. His boxers are probably in the same state. Simon ignores the thought and kisses her a third time, then hooks his fingers in her waistband and shifts to maneuver them down and off her legs entirely.

Once her underwear has been flung safely to the floor, Simon leans back in. "You smell incredible," he says, then cringes. Was that weird? Was it something a vampire would say?

But Izzy doesn't seem weirded out. When he glances up at her, she's smiling, even a little flushed. Simon relaxes, and bows his head to finally put his mouth to her clit.

He _really_ has no idea what he's doing here, so he just... does does what he thinks he'd like someone to do to him. Simon runs his tongue experimentally over Izzy's clit, then to either side, and takes note of how she reacts. He puts pressure to the side of her clit, and her leg jerks; he takes her into his mouth and sucks, and she twists her fingers in his hair, hard.

When he gets bold and uses the flat of his tongue against her, licking her bottom to top, Izzy grits out, "Fuck, _Simon_." He does it again and again. An ache is building between his own legs, insistent, but Simon ignores it. He wants to focus on Izzy: her taste, her scent, the way her thighs surround him. He feels a little dizzy with it all.

Eventually, Izzy starts directing him. "Left," she says, or, "Higher," or, at one point, "Use your fingers, Simon, _fuck_."

Simon loves her voice like this, low and rough; he doesn't think he could say no if he tried. He moves his hand from where it's been resting on Izzy's thigh and strokes two fingers gently over her.

"Like this?" he asks, and Izzy makes a strangled laughing sound from somewhere deep in her throat.

"Don't be a tease," she says, and Simon laughs as well. He pushes his fingers into her, slowly but firmly, and when he curls them, seeking out that spot inside her, Izzy's thighs tighten around him almost painfully.

It's somewhere around there—smothered by Izzy's thighs, neck aching, his mouth on her and his fingers inside her and her hand twisting painfully in his hair—that it occurs to Simon that Izzy doesn't just trust him not to bite her. She wants _him_ , wants his mouth on her, dangerous proximity to fangs and all.

To Izzy at least, he's not some dead disgusting vampire; he's someone who can be wanted. It seems obvious, now that the thoughts occurred to him, but he still feels dizzy with it.

Feeling flushed and determined to give some of this feeling back to Izzy, Simon redoubles his efforts. He twists his fingers inside her and carefully, as carefully as he can, scrapes his teeth—blunt incisors, not fangs—to the side of her clit. Izzy makes a surprised, choked-off sound and comes, shaking against Simon and all but strangling him with her legs.

Simon doesn't move away, stays close and keeps at it through her orgasm and aftershocks, until finally Izzy laughs, a little dazedly, and pushes him away.

"Enough," she says, sounding breathless and fond. "I don't really do multiple orgasms. I'm more of a 'go big and go home' type of girl."

Simon pulls out and pulls away. The ache between his legs is unrelenting now, almost painful, so he rests his forehead against Izzy's hip and fumbles his pants open. He slips his hand inside and presses his fingers—still slick from getting Izzy off—against himself. He's so far gone, it only takes two strokes, maybe three, before he's following Izzy to orgasm.

When his breathing slows and his awareness of his surroundings returns, Simon finds that Izzy is stroking her fingers through his hair. He raises his head and looks up at her, feeling suddenly, absurdly shy.

Izzy doesn't look shy or embarrassed at all, though. She grins when their eyes meet. "I was going to offer to help with that, but it looks like you've got it covered. Come up here," she adds before he can respond to that. She tugs gently on his hair, a counterpoint to the yanking she was doing earlier.

Simon obliges, wiping his mouth awkwardly on his sleeve before crawling up the bed to lie down beside Izzy. She pulls him into a firm kiss. "Thanks for that," she whispers when they break apart.

"Anytime," he mumbles, and closes his eyes. He's sleepy, suddenly, and content to just lie beside her for a while. Jace and Clary may be coming home soon, probably bringing another hellstorm with them, but for now, they've still got time.


End file.
